


Fooled Around And Fell In Love

by hellocatrahere



Category: Bravely Default (Video Game) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, fake dating au, jock Edea cuz i'm a lesbiaaaaaan, mentioned Edea
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:28:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24561595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellocatrahere/pseuds/hellocatrahere
Summary: When Ringabel tries to prove that his dating circle extends outside of his clique, he asks quiet student Tiz Arrior to come to a party with him - just for one night. But he didn't expect to get along with Tiz so well... or that he'd want to see him again.
Relationships: Tiz Arrior/Ringabel
Comments: 5
Kudos: 7





	1. The Invitation

**Author's Note:**

> i've never published a fic before, so... go easy on me?

“Look,” Ringabel said smoothly, “I just need you to be my date for this evening, all right? Just enough to convince Fiore that I don’t _only_ date popular people.” 

Tiz raised an eyebrow at him.

“Er...” Ringabel flashed an awkward grin. “Sorry. Rest assured, you have plenty of _potential_ to be popular, but you don’t - “

“Get out much,” Tiz finished for him. “Right.” The boy studied Ringabel carefully, and there was a terrible pause as Tiz considered his question. Ringabel bit his lip to avoid saying _pleasesayyesitotallyalreadytoldthemyouwerecoming_.

Finally, Tiz shrugged, closed his locker, and said, “Sure.” 

Ringabel beamed at him. “You’re a lifesaver! I’ll pick you up 8!” 

“Uh huh. I guess you need my address?” 

“That would help. Here, give me your number and I’ll text you.” He had intended to be smooth, but Tiz just rolled his eyes and took the sparkly iPhone Ringabel offered him. 

He typed something for a few seconds, smirked, and said, “See you tonight.” And with that, he handed Ringabel back his phone, shrugged his bag over his shoulder, and headed down the hall.

Ringabel glanced at his phone. His mouth dropped. 

Above his phone number, Tiz had written his contact name as “unpopular kid.”

With a winky face. 

\-------------------------------

Ringabel stared at himself in his bedroom mirror and smoothed down his hair for the tenth time. 

After a moment of debate, he french-tucked his black tank top into his jeans - What? Tan would approve, right? - that were faded, high-waisted, and designer, of course. 

He sighed at his reflection and started doing his eyeliner. 

_(Ringabel, 4:12pm) Tiz, I know your name!_

Ringabel had texted him a few hours earlier (after changing the boy’s contact name to his actual name). 

_(Tiz, 4:16pm) Could’ve fooled me, Ringabel Lee._

And before Ringabel could think of a snarky reply, Tiz had added:

 _(Tiz, 4:17pm) Is there a dress code for tonight?_

Fine. Two could play at that game. Ringabel held back a smile before replying:

 _(Ringabel, 4:17pm) No dress code, unpopular kid._

_(4:18pm) Tiz laugh reacted to your message._  
_(Tiz, 4:18pm) Touché. My address is 513 Norende Rd. Bit north of town._

_(Ringabel, 4:19pm) See you at 8 :)_

Back in front of his mirror, Ringabel put on his final touches of eyeliner (it was always subtle) and took a step back. He twisted to both sides, checking his outfit, and smoothed back his hair one more time for good measure. His little pompadour stood strong, as always. Satisfied, he threw on his leather jacket, grabbed his keys off the dresser, and headed downstairs.

As he pulled out of his driveway, Siri yelling directions for how to get out of his own neighbourhood at him, he wondered what he’d gotten himself into. 

It had all started earlier that day. 

He was sitting at their cafeteria table, with his so-called “popular” friends, and, as usual, getting mercilessly teased by them. 

“I do not!” he cried, as Holly and Praline roared with laughter. 

“You do so!” replied Fiore smugly. “First Miffy, then Jack, and even that Florem girl back in ninth grade.”

“She doesn’t even go here anymore!” complained Ringabel. “We don’t know she’s popular!” 

“Yes we do,” smirked Jack. “She just graduated as valedictorian at her private school. _Voted_ valedictorian.” 

Ringabel groaned. Of course she had. Bad enough he was still friends with two of his exes (and sitting at this table no less) - even worse that they just happened to know his _other_ exes. 

“I have dated people outside of our friend group,” he insisted (he hadn’t). But then he had an idea. When he spoke again, it was with more of his usual confidence. “In fact, I’ll prove it. I’m bringing someone to Jack’s party tonight.” 

Holly folded her arms and grinned. “Oh yeah? Is it your sister?”

Ringabel rolled his eyes. “No! You know she doesn’t do parties, it messes with her rugby scholarship or whatever.”

“Then what’s their name?” asked Fiore. He still had a smug look on his face, that bastard.

Without missing a beat, Ringabel had said, “You’ll see.” 

Now, Ringabel found himself driving north out of town, as Tiz had warned him. His signature black boots rested easily on the pedals as the city pavement turned into a country lane. Big plots of land rushed by him. Huh. Guess Tiz lived on a farm. 

Sure enough, when he pulled into the address, it was a long driveway leading to a quaint little farmhouse. Tiz was waiting on the steps, scrolling on his phone. 

He was wearing a black t-shirt underneath a green and brown flannel, and he’d swapped his usual blue jeans for some nicer black ones. His brown sneakers looked pretty worn, but completed the outfit well enough. His messy, light brown hair blew gently in the evening wind, and the porch lights glowed off his soft features. _Shit_. He looked... really cute.

When he looked up and noticed Ringabel, the farm boy’s jaw dropped. He couldn’t help but feel a little (a lot) satisfied at that. He flicked down his sunglasses to grin at Tiz. “Ready to go?”

Tiz gave him a begrudging look of approval. “When you said you’d pick me up, I had no idea you’d be driving a _motorcycle_.” 

Yeah, Ringabel had conveniently left that part out. He’d been hoping to impress Tiz at least a little bit, and by the looks of it, he had. _Ha! Point for Ringabel... finally._

He picked up his spare helmet from the seat behind him. “Not gonna chicken out on me, are you?” He passed the helmet over as Tiz walked towards him. “By the way, I thought I said there was no dress code”

“What?” asked Tiz. He held the helmet in his hands, undoing the clasp. 

“Well, you look nice,” said Ringabel with a smile. “I mean, you always do, but bit of a step-up from your blue jeans.” 

Tiz pulled on the helmet, which was infuriatingly adorable on him. He put a hand on his hip and raised an eyebrow, a look Ringabel was slowly getting used to. “Didn’t realize you noticed me before today.” 

_Fuck! How does he always ruin my flirting? Er, attempted flirting._ Ringabel chewed his lip, but before he could think of something to say, Tiz was climbing onto the motorcycle behind him. He peered around Ringabel’s shoulder, careful not to get too close. “I’m assuming you want me to hold on?” 

When he turned back to look at him, Tiz’s face held an expression of careful neutrality, but Ringabel could tell he was barely holding back a smirk. _Alright,_ he thought. _You’re not winning this that easily._ He leaned in slightly closer to Tiz, who thankfully didn’t smell like a farm - in fact, he smelled nice, like fresh laundry and citrus. _Focus, Ringabel._ He reached back and took the boy’s hands.

“Mm-hmm,” he replied, “like this.” And he guided Tiz’s arms around his waist. He smirked when the boy’s cheeks flushed ever so slightly. 

“Hold on tight,” he grinned, and started up his bike. He did a quick spin around Tiz’s driveway and headed back to the road, feeling extremely smug when he felt Tiz pull himself even closer. 

The wind whistled around them as he drove back into town. Tiz’s hands, clenched tightly above Ringabel’s belly button, felt slightly cold through his tank top in the warm evening air. 

He made a mental note to give Tiz his leather jacket for the ride back. 

When they arrived at Jack’s house (after a beautiful ride into the sunset, which he had _not_ planned but _had_ worked out in his favor), it was to loud music and colourful lights that could be seen even through the front windows. Ringabel parked his motorcycle in the driveway and turned around to face his kind-of-date. 

Tiz pulled off his helmet, breathless. His cheeks were pink from the wind and his hair was even more tousled. “That was fun,” he grinned. 

Ringabel smiled despite himself. “Glad you enjoyed it.”

When he pulled off his own helmet, his pompadour was naturally still perfect. (It had taken months of trial and error to figure out how to get it to bounce back up after being helmet-flattened, but he had it down to a science now). 

He hopped off his motorcycle and thought about asking for Tiz’s hand, but decided against it. He was already pushing his luck. Instead, he took a deep breath, smiled, and waved his arm towards the front door. “Shall we?”

To his complete surprise, Tiz rolled his eyes and took his hand. “You’re not convincing anyone that way, fake boyfriend,” he said. His hand was cold, but Ringabel didn’t mind. 

“I owe you one,” said Ringabel gratefully. He met Tiz’s eyes and hoped desperately that his hands weren’t sweating. Tiz’s eyes sparkled with something he couldn’t name. 

“Come on, then.” And he led Tiz into the party.


	2. The Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ringabel is about to find out that Tiz isn't as quiet as he seems... And Tiz might just have a little more fun than he anticipated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> get ready for every fanfic trope you've ever had a love/hate relationship with

To this day, Ringabel wasn’t really sure how he’d ended up popular. It had just sort of... happened. Although usually, he liked to blame it on Edea.

When he got adopted into the Lee family around third grade, he had always been the quiet one. It was his new younger sister, Edea, that had lots of friends and was beloved by all her teachers. But he had been determined to catch up. His new family was good and kind, and he wanted nothing more than to make them proud.

So maybe that was why, when they’d gone into high school in the same year (due to Edea advancing grades for her athletic scholarships) he’d fallen in with the crowd she hung around - jocks and academics, and, well... pretty people. Ringabel didn’t mind _that_ one bit. In fact, he felt like being around them brought out his charismatic side - and that was his forte. If nothing else, Ringabel was good at people. 

But despite having the best (and most annoying) sister in the world, loving parents, and a hilarious group of friends, that feeling of needing to prove himself never really went away. He always wanted better grades, more friends, another award. Maybe that was why Fiore teasing him had hit the wrong way. It had made him feel... shallow.

He doubted that any of the friends who sat at his cafeteria table had ever seen the side of him that was still a quiet kid, just wanting a home. 

But who cares? He was hot and bisexual. Checkmate, high school. 

The first few hours of the party went by smoother than Ringabel could’ve hoped for. To his pleasant surprise, Tiz was warm, friendly, and chatty. He hung off Ringabel’s arm the whole night, letting himself be led around to snack tables and different groups of people. And, he insisted on not drinking, since Ringabel couldn’t either (who ever said you can’t be hot and responsible? He had to drive them both home later). 

They ran into their first problem talking to Fiore - go figure. 

He was just in the middle of noticing that Tiz’s hands were starting to feel warm around his arm - he’d left his leather jacket out on his bike - when Fiore said, “...so I guess we’ll be seeing you next Friday, Tiz?”

 _Uh oh_.

Tiz raised his eyebrows, a pleasant smile still on his face. He squeezed Ringabel’s arm gently, in a _help!_ kind of way. “Next Friday?” he asked.

“Ah, next Friday is Holly’s birthday,” explained Ringabel casually, “at The White Mage.” 

The White Mage was an upscale bar & lounge that Holly’s dad owned downtown. Not all the seniors would be able to drink, but since it was her dad’s place, they were closing down for the night, and he assumed there would be lots of soda and water available for the underage students. 

“I didn’t know we were allowed plus-ones,” added Ringabel, shooting a look at Fiore. 

“Oh, please,” Holly waved her hand. “You’ll join us, won’t you?” she asked Tiz warmly. 

“Wouldn’t miss it,” smiled Tiz, without missing a beat. He gave Ringabel a knowing look and leaned in close to murmur, “how many do you owe me now?” Ringabel just grinned and brushed his thumb across the back of Tiz’s hand. “Too many,” he mouthed back. 

Hold on. Brushed his thumb across the back of his hand? He had definitely not meant to do that. Why was fake dating this boy so _easy?_

Holly and Praline burst into laughter at something Tiz had said, and Fiore made eye contact with Ringabel. His expression was unreadable.

“...Ringabel?”

“Hm?”

Tiz was tugging at his sleeve. He laughed, and as Ringabel looked down at him he noticed the boy had a few light freckles splayed across his nose. God, could he get any cuter?

“I said I’m gonna go get some water. Do you want any?” Tiz asked, eyes sparkling. 

“I - please, that’d be great,” Ringabel smiled back at him. 

As Tiz headed towards the kitchen, he noticed Fiore strutting after him. But before he could follow, he got ambushed by Holly and Praline. The overpowering smell of flowers and cotton candy invaded his senses, and he did his best not to wrinkle his nose. 

“He is _so_ cute!” squeaked Praline. Ringabel rolled his eyes with feigned detachment. “Why don’t you guys go bug Mephilia?” he grumbled, even though he was secretly kind of glad for all the attention. 

“Miffy went upstairs with her boyfriend,” smirked Holly, “and also, _you_ are much easier to tease.”

Ringabel ignored their increased laughter and tried to peek around them to see what was happening in the kitchen. Fiore had cornered Tiz at the drinks table, leaning back on both elbows and getting up in his personal space. Tiz didn’t seem to mind; he still looked relaxed as he laughed and answered what could only be very invasive questions. The sight brought a knot to Ringabel’s stomach. He wasn’t sure why. 

“Helloooo? Ringabel? Are you even listening?” Someone snapped their fingers in his face.

Annoyed, Ringabel looked back at his friends. Praline stood with her hands on her hips. “We were _asking_ for the dirt!” she sang. “Tell us how you two met!” 

Ringabel started to say something really clever, like “uhhh...” when he was saved by the bell - literally. Out of nowhere, the smoke alarm started going off. Before he could so much as glance upwards in perplexion, something else went off - and just his luck, it was the god damn sprinklers. He started to run for the door, but unfortunately, so did the other several dozen high school kids in Jack’s house. 

After a lot of shouting and shoving, Ringabel found himself outside on the driveway, sopping wet. He grumbled to himself as he looked for Tiz. Why did Jack’s house even have an automatic sprinkler system anyways? Wasn’t that shit usually for apartment buildings? 

He would’ve muttered “ugh, rich people,” but unfortunately, ever since getting adopted, he _was_ a rich people.

The music died down inside and Jack came out on the porch, letting everyone know the sprinklers were off, saying something about an asshole smoker indoors, but Ringabel wasn’t really listening. He kept pushing through the crowd. He was about to lose hope and start wondering if Tiz had just ditched after the surprise shower, when someone caught his arm. 

“Hey!” they said, and thank god, it was Tiz, peering up at him. He was drenched, hair pressed to his forehead, flannel wrinkling up his arms, beads of water dripping down his neck onto his collar bone and... wait, what were they talking about again? 

“Tiz!” he cried, swallowing down whatever feeling had just overwhelmed him. He grabbed his hand and started navigating his way through the swarm of students shuffling back inside. “Good, you’ve found me. Let’s get out of here.” 

“Fine by me,” came Tiz’s weary voice behind him. He let go of his hand as soon as they reached his motorcycle. Triumphantly, Ringabel picked his leather jacket off the seat of his bike. “Luckily for you, I left this outside!”

When he looked back at Tiz, he noticed that, besides still being very wet, he looked pretty tired. His shoulders drooped a little and the spark he’d had during the party had left his eyes. Ringabel frowned as Tiz looked at the leather jacket and (surprise, surprise) raised an eyebrow. 

“And that’s lucky for me because...?” questioned Tiz, folding his arms across his chest. 

“Because you’re going to wear it, of course,” replied Ringabel. But he was distracted by Tiz’s sudden fatigue. “Hey, are you alright?” 

Tiz looked startled at the question. His brown eyes met Ringabel’s. “Um, yeah. Just a little tired, I guess. As we established earlier, I don’t... get out much,” he finished sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. 

The chill of the evening air whistled through Ringabel’s shirt and down the back of his neck. It was dark out now, though the driveway was lit by a few lamps above Jack’s garage. Crickets echoed down the suburban street as he studied Tiz carefully. 

“No indeed,” agreed Ringabel, “though I don’t know why. You seem to be great at parties.”

He’d intended it to be a compliment, but Tiz just raised his other eyebrow. “Great at parties,” he repeated. “Thanks, I’ll put that on my resume.”

Ringabel laughed, though he could have kicked himself for it. If he’d known this boy was so funny, he would’ve fake-asked him out _ages_ ago.

“Okay,” demanded Ringabel, still smiling. “Remind me again why we’ve never hung out before?”

Tiz started laughing too. “Because you only hang out with popular people?” he teased. His eyes were sparkling again, although the tiredness was still there. Ringabel pouted dramatically. “You make me sound so shallow!” 

“I didn’t say that... exactly,” said Tiz, far too innocently. Ringabel scoffed as Tiz laughed even harder, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth. Ringabel couldn’t help but notice how lovely he looked in the lamplight, eyes crinkling as he laughed. 

“Listen, if the hottest boy in school is gonna ask me on a _fake_ date, I get to be a little mean,” Tiz insisted. 

Now it was Ringabel’s turn to raise an eyebrow. Tiz stopped laughing as he realized what he’d said and turned bright pink.

Ringabel hated how much he loved seeing him flustered. 

“Shit,” Tiz muttered. “Sorry, I-”

“No, don’t apologize,” grinned Ringabel. He leaned on the handle of his motorcycle. “Go on.” He was mentally chiding himself for being so pleased but unfortunately, the warm feeling in his chest just wouldn’t go away. Tiz got even more flustered.

“Just because you happen to be pretty,” he protested, before pausing for a moment and studying Ringabel’s face. “Wait a minute. Are _you_ blushing?” 

Ringabel chose to ignore the warmth currently flooding his cheeks. “Absolutely not,” he declared. “I don’t blush.” 

“You’re totally blushing!” And Tiz was laughing again, and Ringabel was _trying_ to keep a straight face but Tiz just looked _so_ adorable and before he knew it, he was smiling so much it hurt. When Tiz’s laughter died down, he caught the taller boy staring at him. And for a few moments they stayed there, eyes locked on each other, not daring to read into the moment too much. 

Ringabel cleared his throat. “I should get you home,” he said. “Here, take this off, you’ll freeze.”

He stepped closer to Tiz and reached for the collar of his flannel shirt. Tiz’s eyes widened and he instinctively reached up to grab Ringabel’s wrist. His hands were cold again. “What are you -” 

“Hush,” said Ringabel softly. “Let me warm you up. The ride back will be chilly, trust me.” Even though it was nearly summer, he could feel himself starting to get cold in his damp clothes. Ringabel brushed Tiz’s hand away and felt the boy relax slightly. He looked up at Ringabel curiously as he gently removed Tiz’s flannel, trying desperately to ignore that Tiz’s arms were much more toned than he’d expected - guess living on a farm will do that -, and dumped the damp shirt on the bike behind him, scooping up his leather jacket in its place.

He wasn’t quite sure what had come over him. But something about this night made him want to prove to Tiz that he wasn’t just some popular asshole. Tiz was doing him a hell of a favour; he wanted to make sure he had a good time - and maybe prove that he still had at least a _few_ tricks up his sleeve.

“Here,” he continued, draping the jacket around Tiz’s shoulders.

“Ringabel, you really don’t have to...” he protested weakly, but Ringabel just shook his head. “Put it on,” he insisted, and even though Tiz rolled his eyes, he was smiling as he shrugged on the sleeves of the leather jacket. 

It was a size or so too big on him, but it still looked good. Tiz looked down at himself, now clad in entirely black clothing spare his brown shoes, and looked up at Ringabel miserably. “Do I look like a punk?” 

Ringabel roared with laughter as Tiz spun around hopelessly. “Just so!” he quipped delightfully, climbing onto his motorcycle. Still laughing, he held out his hand and said, “Come on, let’s get you home.” 

Tiz accepted his hand and clambered on behind him. Just before he pulled on his helmet, he said, “Thanks for the jacket. You were right, it’s warm.” He put his arms around Ringabel’s waist once more, this time with Ringabel’s wet tank top sticking to his skin. 

Ringabel pulled on his own helmet before turning around to face the other boy. “You’re quite welcome.” 

The drive back was certainly chilly, for Ringabel at least. Between his damp clothes and the loss of his jacket, he was nearly shivering by the time they pulled back into Tiz’s driveway. He pulled up to the porch steps, turned off the engine, and rested his boots on the ground as Tiz climbed off behind him. 

Tiz pulled off his helmet and swapped it for his damp flannel that had been resting on the back of the bike. As he did, he looked at Ringabel and seemed to notice something. He stepped closer - like _really_ close - and Ringabel’s breath hitched. He could smell his own cologne on his jacket. 

Tiz had a strange smile on his face. He reached his hand up, and for a moment Ringabel thought he might caress his face, but instead he felt his fingers brush through his damp hair. “Your hair fell out,” he murmured. 

Ringabel’s hands flew up to his hair in a panic. Between the sprinklers and the drive home, it must have been a mess! He pouted again as Tiz broke into laughter. “Please never speak of this to anyone,” begged Ringabel, and Tiz laughed even harder.

“No, don’t worry!” insisted Tiz. His eyes were filled with warmth. “It looks really nice. You should wear it down more often.” 

Ringabel glanced up at him suspiciously, but the farm boy’s smile was genuine. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. Plus, he was still kind of rattled. He hadn’t been seen with his hair down since - what, grade nine? 

Tiz ran his fingers through his hair one more time, as if savouring the moment, and then turned towards his house. “I should get to bed. Thanks for tonight. It was... interesting.” He looked back at Ringabel with another smile and started to shrug off his leather jacket. Ringabel caught his arm immediately.

“No, keep it,” he said. “I insist.”

“Ringabel, you’re only wearing a tank top-” complained Tiz, but Ringabel shushed him again. “It’s fine, really. I run warm. And you can wear it next Friday.” He regarded Tiz, hesitating. “If you were serious when you said you’d come?” 

Tiz looked at Ringabel’s hand on his arm, and then back up to his face. He had a mischievous glint in his eye. 

“I’ll come,” said Tiz with a very sly smile, “on one condition.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ohoho, what's the condition tiz? i can promise you he has something pretty good planned. plus, tiz POV next chapter!!!


End file.
